


Jams, Jellies, and Flower Crowns

by dorker



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Drabble, Fawnlock, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Language Barrier, M/M, That is It, i mean this really is just cute and fluff, prompted, sherlock loves jam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorker/pseuds/dorker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fawnlock hasn't really traveled far in the forests, but once he come across a clearing with a large building in the middle, he's not sure exactly what to do. So why not explore and find out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Driving back home, Greg turned the radio on. Nothing but the new, popular music that he had no interest for. Of course. He listened for a little bit longer before becoming bored with it and turning it off. Pulling into the cabin’s drive way, Greg turned off the engine and got out, locking his truck behind as he unlocked the cabin and went inside. It still smelled like old spruce, and that new cobbler Molly from the conservation office had sent home with him last night. Blackberry? She said something about blackberries in it. Or was that raspberries? Nevertheless, it sounded delicious.

Toeing out of his shoes and leaving them by the door, Greg headed to the kitchen, only to stop short when he saw a tall.. deer? He gasped at the site, and the creature bolts for the open back door and left for the woods. Greg waited a second before going to the door to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Nothing but foot prints indented in the grass heading into the surrounding woods. Wonderful.  
Too tired to dare chase the thing, he settled for getting some cobbler. Closing the back door, he went back to the kitchen, disaster still awaiting him. Half the cobbler was gone, and the other half was spread all over the counter.  
"Bloody hell," he cursed to himself before starting to clean up after the creature.

 

The next few nights were near repeats, except several jars of jams and jellies went missing or were strewn about, half eaten and open. The applebutter hadn’t been touched yet, which surprised Greg to no end. With a frown, he laid out a sandwich for the creature and left his backdoor unlock for it to come back. He’d only gotten glimpses of it, but he seemed to have seen only what it wanted before leaving him again.

Finally, when Greg came home early, he settled himself on the couch for a power nap. He woke an hour later at the sound of the backdoor unlocking, and hesitantly watched as the lithe deer-like creature entered his cabin. Mud caked its feet, a rather obvious thing, but the dark markings on it’s body were beautiful. He watched the being’s ears and tails twitched as it moved, obviously comfortable with its surroundings as it moved to a cabinet and pulled out a jar. The applebutter. The park ranger nearly gasped, but watched as the creature tried opening the jar, clearly straining. It nipped at the hard top, unsure of how to open it.

Knowing he was taking a huge risk in this creature running off, Greg got off the couch quietly, but made i obvious he was going into the kitchen. The creature froze, turning its head quickly to the human to look for escape, but came up empty handed. His eyes locked onto the human’s and he watched it get closer, and reach out for the jar.  
With fascination, Greg reached out as an offer to open it for the creature, taking it as much detail as possible. He wondered what the fur felt like. Must be coarse, as it appeared to be on his chest and near his nether regions. The thing held the jar closer to its self, so Greg frowned and picked up the other jar of applebutter and grabbed a washcloth, twisting the top off.

He knew he had the deer-man’s attention, so Greg continued looking for bread, butter knife, and plate. He laid it out and spread the apple butter onto bread carefully, folding one slive of bread in half to makeup for lack of peanutbutter or other jellies. He ate it like that, and the deer-man attempted with wiry fingers to do the same. He came close to it, but held the unopened jar close, just in case.

"So what are you?" Breaking the silence, the fawn looked up at the human, it’s language odd.. but still beautiful.

"What?" he replied in a language much more graceful and complicated to the human, as it struggled to recognize it’s words.

"So.. not English. Okay," Greg cleaned up the crumbs, still wondering why the creature was still there. "Greg," he offered, pointing to himself.

"Geg," the creature tried, rolling it around on his tongue. He could get this.

"Guh-reh-guh," the park ranger tried.

"Guhreguh?"

"Greg."

 

Time passed easily between the two as the fawn tried to learn the human’s name, finally getting it. When it came to the deer-man to give his own name, it was jumbled up and nonesense. So the creature spoke slower, “Faun-lauk.”

"Fawnlock?"

They repeated the same thing, Greg proving to be much slower with his words than the faun was. It was settled that GReg would call him Fawnlock. When Greg stood up and excused himself to go the bathroom, the faun stole his bread and applebutter jam and left. When Greg came back, he was upset, yes, but cleaned up and went to bed.

 

It was weeks until Greg saw Fawnlock again, wondering why the being was suddenly gone and his jams and jelly stocks were no longer bothered and his larder was never touched for cheese or dried fruits. “Odd little thing,” he thought to himself, heading to bed after a long day of chastising kids about littering and training new recruits.

Shuffling in the night and a slight thud tore Greg from dreamless sleep. He eagerly curled back into the blankets, figuring it was the faun again, when a strangled cry echoed throughout the cabin. With a groan, the ranger got up from his bed in his sweatpants and went to check on what was going on.

The closer he got, the more desperate the noises, and soon Greg was near face-to-face with Fawnlock, toppling over the couch with a lack of antlers. ‘He must have shed them,’ he thought as the creature mewled as it curled up on the couch. Taking pity, Greg fetched a blanket and draped it over the shivering creature. IT jumped, before recognizing the cabin owner’s face and snuggling the blanket closer.

Greg padded back to his room and fell asleep, one less blanket to keep him warm, but the risk was worth it. The nights were turning even more bitter as the season got wearier.

 

It became a schedule. Around five or six at night, the faun would nibble on the fruits -once he was properly introduced to the blackberries, there was no turning back- and jellies. He’d then leave Greg to clean up and eat on his own and go to bed. Fawnlock would return once it was ten or eleven in the night, and would settle on the couch. A habit formed that Greg would wake up around midnight to make sure the back door was shut and Fawnlock was covered up.

On one of the colder nights of the oncoming fall, Fawnlock dragged his weary self to where he assumed was Greg’s room. The scent of the human was stronger in there, and he’d only ventured through the house once on his own before. Taking tentative steps towards the bed, he poked and sniffed at it, the figure of the human clear by the blankets rising and falling in one area, off to the far side. Cautiously, Fawnlock put some weight on the bed, surprised by the slight creak.

He froze, watching for the human to recognize him. Nothing. Being quick, and starting to care less of the consequences, Fawnlock slipped under the blankets and curled up towards the edge of the bed, using the fluffy pillow as something to hold. It smelled of Gavin -or was it George?- and he held it close, falling asleep in minutes.

 

Greg woke up around midnight, as per usual, and went to the bathroom, checked the couch, but paused when it was empty. The blanket was clearly used, but where was Fawnlock? Shrugging it off, Greg went back to his bed, finding it hoarded by the long-legged creature. With a huff, Greg got it and pushed the faun’s intrusive body away enough that he could curl into the bed as well.

Sleep didn’t come, having the faun’s weight pressed against his side in a crushing way. Greg shoved the faun a little more, wrapping his arm around Fawnlock’s stomach to keep him still and nuzzling his shoulder blades. The faun never woke up, and Greg was too tired to care on his own behalf anyways. He dozed off again, his alarm never going off the next morning.

At least he was on break for the next week to enjoy this little faun.


	2. Bathtime, and Goodnight Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fawnlock despises baths, altogether. But at least he can roll in Greg's scent right after!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, no smut even though it seem like there might be at two separate [or more?] points. I'm going more for fluff in this story. Might make a separate creation for any/all smut that comes to mind for Fawny and Greg.

"Yeah, I’m a bit busy at the moment, Molly. Can I call you back?" Greg said into the phone pressed against his shoulders, grabbing a soft towel from the closet. He shut the door behind him and nodded despite Molly being unable to see him. "Yeah, Friday for some coffee, got it. I’ll see you then Molly, bye!" With that he dropped the phone onto the bed and heads to the bathroom.

"Fawnlock?" He called, tapping the door. A quiet, disgruntled noise came from inside, and Greg entered. The faun was sitting curled up tightly in the bubbly soaps of the tub. He’d gone out and come back covered head to toes in mud. Mud was everywhere! The carpet, hardwood, the walls and cabinets, the bedroom, doors, and especially the bathtub. Turns out the little wanker loved em, but he was still shy.

As soon as Fawnlock saw Greg he grunted and shifted further into the tub, bleating at the human nonchalantly. It was odd,t he way the deer used their noises. Grunts for rutting, bleating at fawns, it was all odd to him. At least the fauns were more sensible. A grunt and a bleat were simple acknowledgements. Deer.

Stretching out more, Fawnlock bared his back to Greg for him to scrub at, looking over his shoulder to watch the human place the towels down on the cold white circle thing and move to his knees next to the tub.

"There’s no keeping you out of mischief is there?" Greg sighed, picking up the scrubbie and running it down the faun's back, rubbing the sudsy water into his fur. Fawnlock twitched at the odd texture of the fluff, it wasn't as soft as he'd thought. He leaned into it, though, ears flattened in annoyance. He knew he'd put this upon himself, and he could have gone and washed himself in the creek before he came to Gaven. He wanted a reaction; but this wasn't it.

"Nee!" He shrieked when the water rushed down his back, and he leaned forward in the small width the tub offered, shivering and shaking to get the water off. He had enough of this human's excuse of a bah. Bah. What had Gaven called it? Buh buh buth. Buth. Yes, that was the world. "No! Buth!" He shrieked , and turned, water sloshing out of the tub and onto Greg and tiled floor.

"Fawnlock, calm down! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Greg tried, hands up submissively, though the water felt cold as it sunk into his shirt and clung to his chest. The faun stood in the bath, grumbling to himself and arms over his chest though he was clearly shivering. His legs and body were clean, so Greg got off his knees with a wince as they popped. He grabbed one of the larger and fluffier towels, draping it over Fawnlock's shoulders and letting him pull it closer.

"Step out," Greg encouraged, stepping away from the tub and laying out a towel for him to step on. Fawnlock followed, though he didn't understand Geoff very well. He was handed another towel and left to his own beings as Greg changed in the other room. He could hear the familiar shuffle of the human changing his unnecessary clothing. When Fawnlock deemed himself warm enough to go back to Greg's nest, the bedroom door was shut on him and promptly locked.

Fawnlock tried the handle momentarily, ears and tail flickering in annoyance. He didn't like it, that he couldn't get in. He rubbed his head against Guhreg's door, marking his scent on it as he waited for Guhreg to let him in.

Greg finally pealed out of his pants, and just grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He didn't want to bother with the hassle of pulling boxers over his wet legs, it was time consuming and he was exhausted. Finally, he unlocked the door and jumped as soon as it was swiped over. Greg stepped back as the faun moved to his bed and instantly curled himself in the middle, nuzzling the pillows and sprawling out like a child.

"Oi! You're going to get the douvet wet!" Greg chuckled, going after the blankets to pull them off and over the faun. In attempt to move the blankets, Fawnlock's leg reached out and pulled Greg down onto the bed as well. "Hey!"

Fawnlock scooted over, bracing his head against Greg's in attempt to rub heads. He missed his antlers, but he was enjoying this greatly, the human laughing and playing along. Fawnlock shrieked again as he was pull over Greg, and was left to grasp at his shoulder from falling to the floor. "Nee," he grumbled, frowning and his ears down.

"Oh come on," Greg laughed and kissed Fawnlock's nose playfully. The faun crinkled his nose and licked Greg's nose in return, turning away from the edge of the bed and curling into Greg's side, breathing in his scent from his neck. 

"Guhreg," he mumbled, "Buth no." 

Greg snorted, and turned his head to kiss Fawnlock's forehead before getting out of bed,. Well, until the faun reached for his hand, confusion plain as day on his face. "Lights," Greg replied, pointing to the switch in the corner of the room. Fawnlock made the connection, nodding slowly and letting the human go for a moment. It was quiet until Greg rejoined Fawnlock in the bed, the bed creaking under his weight and blankets shuffling as Greg covered them.

"Goodnight, Fawnlock," Greg sighed, wrapping an arm around Fawnlock's waist and pulling him closer.

"Nuh," the faun huffed before relaxing into Greg's touch and falling asleep, inhaling his scent.


End file.
